Chapter 9 – Sebastian
Chapter
Nine
SEBASTIAN
H er face is a picture of confusion and desire, and both are fucking delicious. We’re sharing quite the dance, both of us jostling for control and power. Physically, I win that game, but there are many other types of power.
Hearing the anguish in her voice while she talked about her evil fuck of an uncle almost broke me. She’s overcome so much trauma she hides beneath layers of cocksure confidence, and I feel privileged that she opened up to me. Now she’s fighting to help others who are trying to escape domestic abuse, and I couldn’t admire her more. Coming from her background, she’ll be under no illusions about the threat that the Russian mob brings, but she’s scrapping for Caroline and Nicky anyway. Taking on a man like Volkov could unleash a world of pain in her direction, but if she’s worried about that, she’s doing a damn good job of hiding it. Now she has me on her side, though, and if anyone lays a hand on her, that hand will not remain attached to the owner’s body for long.
This has been a lot for both of us. Our friendly dinner turned into a soul-searching session way more intense than anything either of us is used to, and I know how it’s made me feel—jagged, exposed, vulnerable. I rarely feel any of those things, and it sucks balls. I can tell it’s the same for her, and I’m determined to change the tone of our night. In fact, my cock is already stirring at what I have in mind, and the bewildered look in her eyes is only adding to it.
“Shoes?” she echoes. “You want to know what shoes I’m wearing?”
I nod as I scoop out my wallet to pay the bill. “I do, yeah. Or shall I climb under the table and take a look for myself? Who knows what else I might get up to while I’m down there.” I wink at her and am rewarded with a sweet blush creeping across her cheeks.
“No! Don’t do that. I’m, uh, I’m wearing deeply unglamorous sneakers, Seb. Sorry to disappoint.”
“What makes you think that’s a disappointment? That’s actually perfect. Much as I loved seeing you in heels while I had my fingers in your soaking wet pussy, what I have in mind for tonight calls for something more practical. Like you said, we both enjoy the chase, and I think we both deserve a little fun. So how about we take the chase a step further? How about we make it real?”
She fights to keep her cool, capturing her plump lower lip between her teeth in a way that makes her look like a nervous schoolgirl. It makes me more feral for her, and I let go of her wrists before I’m tempted to drag her into my lap. “How would that work?” she finally says, her head tilted to one side.
“Pretty simple, sweetheart. You run, you hide, then I hunt you. You’re my prey. If you want to try to fight me off, give it your best shot.”
Her pupils blow wide, and she sucks in a breath. “What happens if you catch me?”
“I think you already know the answer to that. You get fucked, any way I choose. I do whatever I want to you, no holds barred.”
“No holds barred?” There’s a flicker of something deeper there, but she clamps down on it. “What if I want you to stop?”
“Then you tell me to stop. You can trust me to listen. I might act like an animal sometimes, but I’m not one. If it makes you feel better, we could use a safe word.”
She turns it over in her mind, and I’m surprised that this all seems new to her. I would have expected a woman with her enthusiasm and experience to have experimented with the darker side of sex before now, but it all seems fresh to her. Which, of course, makes it even more fucking exciting. There’s a whole world of play I can introduce my little virgin to if she’ll let me.
“My safe word can be ‘chainsaw’ then,” she replies, arching an eyebrow at me.
“Okay, I’ll bite—why chainsaw?”
“Because that’s what my family will use to dismember your still-breathing body with if I ask them to.”
It’s a decent attempt at a power play, but I’ve been threatened by bigger and nastier people than Lauren. “Understood. So, what do you say? Feel like giving it a try, Hot Sauce? Or are you too scared?”
She stands up abruptly, hands on her curvaceous hips and a wicked smile on her lips. “You’re very sure of yourself, Seb. Maybe I’ll be the one who wins the game and gets to fuck you any way I choose instead. Wouldn’t that be fun? Now, I assume I get some kind of head start? Are there any rules I need to know about?”
And there she is again, all fire and fury. The way this woman goes from wide-eyed to warrior in seconds is intoxicating. “Your head start lasts as long as it takes me to throw cash on this table. What are you standing there for, Lauren? Run.” I slam my hands down flat on the surface with the last word, and she jumps in shock.
Her curls tumble out of the loose bun on top of her head, and she laughs as she grabs her purse and saunters to the door of the restaurant. She doesn’t run, oh no—she leaves in exaggerated slow motion, sashaying those hips, swaying that killer behind from side to side like a metronome. I stare at her juicy, round ass, mesmerized by her, just like half the men in the room. She pauses in the doorway, looks over her shoulder, and gives me a little wave before she bolts across the street. The minx knows exactly what she’s doing, and now I’m stuck here for a few minutes longer while I wait for my raging erection to die down. Well played, Ms. Montoya.
I concentrate on unsexy thoughts, pay up, and leave a generous tip. I clocked exactly where she was heading, so I have time to go to my car, which I parked in a secluded spot behind the restaurant, and shove a few items into my pocket. I pull a black sweater on over my shirt and jog at an easy pace across the road. It’s dark, the way lit only by the moon and the glow spilling from bars and clubs on the main street. I stop and look around to get my bearings. This place is busy, so she’ll have headed somewhere quieter, more private. She wants to be caught as much as I want to catch her.
I have home-turf advantage and know where each and every alleyway in this neighborhood starts and ends. Methodically, I make my way down all of them, finding nothing more interesting than overflowing dumpsters and a young lad taking a piss. I check creaking fire escapes and shadowed doorways and all the other little hiding spots that a city at night offers. I look inside the pubs in case she’s hiding in plain sight, then check out a nearby car park. Lots of spots to shelter there, as well as lifts and staircases. She could be crouching down beside one of the vehicles. I imagine grabbing her, throwing her against a car bonnet, and slamming my cock inside her.
She’s not there, though, and the only thing I end up with is a stiff dick. Fuck’s sake, this is getting annoying. I’ve been at this a while, and I expected to be balls-deep in her by now, not wandering around the streets like a clown.
I go still and remind myself who I’m dealing with. She’s clever, she’s competitive, and she’s not going to make this easy for me. Just because I saw her heading off in this direction doesn’t mean she stayed here. It could have been a deliberate bluff, and she could easily have doubled back. She could have played me for a fool, and if she has, I’ll have to take my revenge in a way we’ll both enjoy.
I retrace my steps, passing Vincenzo’s again, and instinct tells me that’s exactly what happened. I don’t know whether it’s a lingering whiff of her perfume or something more primal, but I suddenly know she’s nearby. Not letting my excitement show on my face, I school my expression into one of annoyance.
I stand on the street corner, huffing and puffing and staring at my watch as though I’m about to give up. Then I stroll slowly toward the quiet spot where I left the car, holding my phone to my ear even though it’s switched off. It was no lie when I said she was going to be my prey, and like all good hunters, I can tell when my prey is close. The weight of her eyes is on me as I click my car keys and listen to the beep of the locks. If she’s watching—and I know she is—she’ll be delighted with herself. She’ll see exactly what I want her to see: a frustrated man who has had enough of this game and is chatting on the phone as he prepares to leave. I glance down at the side mirror and catch a fleeting glimpse of movement behind me. I’m tempted to let her have this win—I’m curious as to what she’d do with her prize. The temptation isn’t quite strong enough though, and as I slide my phone back into my pocket, I allow myself a small smile of anticipation.
I whirl around and catch her about to pounce, her hand stretched out before her as though she was going to tap me on the shoulder. The look of shock on her face when I confront her is perfection. She lets out a squeal, then quickly turns to run. Not quickly enough to avoid being grabbed and slammed into my body though. I tear her purse from her shoulder and throw it into the car, keeping a tight grip on her. Her shocked look is now edged with panic, her eyes rolling wildly as I crush her against me. It goes straight to my cock, that panic, that squeal, that rapid-fire breathing and the way she struggles against me. She flails around in my arms, trying to lash out and discovering I have her pinned so tight she’s trapped. She raises a knee, aimed at the traditional area, but expecting it, I block her. Next, she stamps down on my foot as hard as she can, which might have been more effective if I wasn’t wearing tough boots.
“Gotcha,” I whisper, nuzzling her hair, completely inflamed by her efforts to escape.
She bares her teeth and seems furious enough to try to take a chunk out of me. I spin her around, slam her against the car, and drag both arms behind her back. I hold her wrists with one hand, tugging them slightly upward to let her know who’s in charge here. It has to hurt, but she’s still fighting, so I slip my other hand around to the front of her neck.
“You’re mine,” I mutter, gently squeezing the slender column of her throat. “And the more you struggle, the more this will hurt. Or is that what you want, eh, sweetheart? You want a big bad man to fuck you while you fight? You want a stranger to take you in the dark?”
I slam my groin into her as I speak, and she whimpers as she feels my cock press against her. “Yeah. That is what you want, my dirty little slut.”
I’m so distracted by the scent of her fear, by our bodies pressed together, that when she slams her head back and tries a reverse headbutt, I barely dodge it. She manages to catch my chin, and the flash of pain makes me angry. Another twist of her arms, not enough to harm her but enough to make her cry out, and I take a pair of zip ties from my pocket. Within seconds, she’s trussed up, and I clamp my hand over her mouth to stop her yelling out any objections. We’re in a sheltered spot here, but I don’t want any good Samaritans getting in the way of our fun and games.
I pull open the back door of my SUV and shove her roughly inside. She lands on the back seat face first, her ass in the air exactly how I want it. I climb in behind her, close the door, and lean down over her trembling body so my mouth is right by her ear. “Say that safe word. Tell me to stop. Or carry on fighting and see what happens.”
Tears are flowing from the scrunched-up corners of her eyes, and her breath is coming in short, ragged gusts. Of course, I’ll stop if she wants me to, but it will use up all of my self-control and possibly be the biggest letdown of my entire fucking life. She shakes her head, still looking furious, her eyes darting everywhere like she’s looking for a way to escape. My hand is on the seat beside her, and I pull it away before she manages to bite my finger. Growling, I wrap my fist in her hair and pull her head up sharply, making her yelp. “You can’t win. I’m bigger than you. I’m stronger than you. You are nothing more than my prey.”
She glares at me and manages a muffled “fuck you.”
I fight back a smile at her spirit and push her face down into the upholstery. “Unless you want me to gag you, those better be the last words coming out of your filthy mouth.”
I climb behind her, and she kicks out, catching one of my thighs with a decent shot. Her arms are safely zip-tied behind her, but her legs are still a threat. “Keep fighting, Lauren. Keep struggling. It only makes me want to fuck you harder when I see your ass bouncing around like that.”
I grab the hem of her little black dress and tug it up over her backside. The sight of that tanned arse in the air, her bound arms, the scrap of lace she calls panties… Fuck. I wanted to take my time, to torture her and make her beg, but this is too much. I slap her ass repeatedly, feeling the sting on the flat of my hand and loving the sound of her yells as I turn her skin red. God, what I’d give for a paddle or the space to use a belt properly. She’s squealing and wriggling as I lay into her, and the scent coming from her pussy is fucking amazing.
With her legs spread, arousal spills from her opening, her thighs growing slick already. I unzip my pants and pull out my cock, which is the hardest it’s ever damn well been, then slap her ass with it. Her breath catches in her throat.
I’m so desperate, I don’t bother to take her panties off. I shove the flimsy material of the thong to one side and drive myself straight into her. There’s no gradual, there’s no careful, no easing her in—I just slam my dick as far inside her as I can, my balls slapping against her wetness as I bang her. “You’re mine, Lauren. I can do this to you whenever I want. Wherever you are, whatever you’re doing, I can find you. I can hunt you down, and I can take you.”
I grip her hip with one hand and put the other on the back of her neck, holding her down like the predator I am, nailing her as hard as I can. I’m usually more considerate with my women, but right now I’m all animal. She lets out low moans and cries, her hair spilled over the seats, her flesh jiggling as I hammer her into oblivion. Her pussy walls clench around me, and her breathing hits a desperate rhythm.
“Come for me, sweetheart.” I squeeze her ass cheeks so hard I’ll leave fingerprints. That’s what I want. I want to leave my mark. I want to claim her. Her pussy is tightening around my cock, and we’re both so close now. I shove her dress higher, running my hands along her sweat-slicked skin, pushing her flatter down on the seats. I’m firmly on top of her, her wrists tied, her legs parted, her whole body at my fucking mercy.
I sweep back her long hair and, without warning, sink my teeth into her shoulder. I bite down hard enough to taste the coppery tang of her blood on my tongue, and she screams at both the bite and the orgasm that now rips through her. My dick is milked, her whole body juddering beneath me, and it seems to go on forever—one big, long ripple of pleasure rolling through her. I finally shoot my load into her, letting out a yell of my own as I come.
Holy fucking shit. I think that was the most powerful orgasm in the known world of orgasms.
I stay where I am for a few moments, trying to drag myself back to reality. Eventually, I pull out of her and sit up behind her shaking form. Her quivering body is a disaster zone: Her ass bears my rough paw print in the middle of skin that is spanked cherry red, and her spread legs reveal a pink pussy that is drenched in our cum. Her hip is already bruising from where I grabbed her, and the dress is ripped, showing the blood-tinged bite mark on her shoulder. I’ve never seen anything so fucking gorgeous in my life. “Seb… Please. Please untie me.”
Her voice is low and pleading, and I cut the ties loose and help her upright. I rub her wrists gently, helping her get the circulation back in her veins, and smooth her wild hair away from clammy, tear-stained cheeks. “Ouch,” she says as her backside hits the seat. “What the fuck was that?”
“That, sweetheart, was a whole lot of fun. Are you okay? Want me to kiss anything better? Gloria must be sore.” She glares at me and then bursts out laughing. I love this aspect of Lauren. The way she so nimbly moves between dark and light, like she’s made of both.
“Aw, you remembered her name—how sweet. And she’s just fine, thank you. That was… intense. Who the fuck carries zip ties around in their trunk, by the way?”
I shrug, slip my arm around her shoulders, and pull her in for a cuddle. “You do know I run a security firm, right, babe? And sometimes I need to make sure things are… secure.”
Her eyes narrow as she turns the information over in her mind. “What else do you have back there?”
I laugh and squeeze her closer. “Maybe, if you’re a very good girl, I’ll share my whole bag of tricks with you. But for now, that was enough. Would you like to come back to my place? I make a mean full English breakfast.”
As soon as I ask, I realize it was a mistake. This woman might unravel beneath my fingertips where sex is concerned, and we definitely connected in a different way over dinner tonight, but her rules are not there to be broken. She’s more likely to scream “chainsaw” at the thought of a cozy night in than she is while getting tied up and violently fucked.
“I told you, I don’t do sleepovers, Seb.”
And just like that, the shutters come down again. Maybe, I tell myself, it’s for the best. She’s Sam’s colleague, she’s young enough to be my daughter, and she’s a fucking Montoya.
It might be for the best, but it fucking hurts in a way I can’t quite explain. Again, I have offered her more than sex, and again, she’s rejected it. That should make her the perfect fucking woman, but it stings.
“Then I’ll take you home.”
She shakes her head, her curls bouncing around her face. “I’d rather call a cab.”
“Lauren. You can’t let me…” I scrub a hand down my face and blow out a breath.
“Can’t let you what?”
I stare at her, the woman who drives me crazy. The paradox that is Lauren Montoya Hayes. Vulnerable and confident. Wild and sensitive. Damaged, yet as strong as anyone I’ve ever met. “You can’t let me fuck you like that and not take care of you afterward.”
She grabs her purse and shrugs it onto her shoulder. “I can take care of myself.”
“I only want to drive you home, sweetheart. I won’t ask to come in, and you don’t even have to speak to me. Please, can you let me do that?”
“Fine,” she huffs, pulling her dress down to cover her thighs.
I climb into the driver’s seat, and she stays in the back while I drive her home, like I’m her cabbie. She doesn’t speak, and I don’t push her. What we did was intense. Maybe this is how she deals with it. I’d much rather be running her a warm bath and tucking her up in a nice soft bed, curled up next to me, of course, but who am I to know what’s best for her?
When I pull up outside her building, she opens the door. I want to ask if she’s okay but don’t want to get into another argument, so I simply tell her goodnight. She offers me a breezy goodbye in return, and I watch her window until her light goes on and I know she’s safe. This woman is in an enigma. And she is going to be the ruin of me.